


Just Like A Circus

by RedNGold



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Annoyed Phineas, BAMF Phillip, Dancing, M/M, NSFW, New Orleans, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phillip has controlling issues, Phillip is a Little Shit, Phineas is kinda smitten, Power Struggle, Seductive Phillip, Sexual Tension, Smut, So is Phillip tbh, Songs, a lot of OCs - Freeform, barlyle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-05-16 17:56:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14816066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedNGold/pseuds/RedNGold
Summary: Phillip ran away from home years before the Barnum Circus was even created. He ends up in New Orleans, meeting new people, making a life for himself, out of the constricts of his parent's society.When he reads about this new Circus back in New York, his curiosity gets the better of him.What happens when he meets P.T. Barnum?





	1. Cover

**Author's Note:**

> Hullo! 
> 
> This is going to be a few chapters long, so I hope y'all enjoy the ride!
> 
> Thank you to Nerdy_snowflake and my Mello for helping me along. And Puff for the cover! Love y'all!
> 
> Comments and kudoseseseses fuel my brain ;)


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hullo!
> 
> This is going to be a few chapters long, so I hope y'all enjoy the ride!
> 
> Thank you to Nerdy_snowflake and my Mello for helping me along. And Puff for the cover! Love y'all!
> 
> Comments and kudoseseseses fuel my brain ;)

Chapter 1

 

 

 

 

Phillip Carlyle is in a cheerful mood. He is reading the morning news from the New Orleans gazette, grinning at one of the articles on the second page. Phillip stands up from his chair on the front porch of his and his friends' bar, stretching his arms above his head, a pleased sound escaping him as the sun shines on his face. He takes a moment to absorb the quietness of this particularly sunny morning, before tucking the newspaper under his arm, grabbing his almost empty cup of coffee, and heading back inside.

 

The bar, named the “Other Side” in honor of Phillip's freedom, has been Phillip's center for almost four years now. Eight years ago, Phillip had left his suffocating family back in New York, unable to stand them and their vision of society any longer. He had taken a simple leather case, and had hopped onto the nearest train. It had taken him to Iowa, where he had spent about a year doing the odd jobs to make enough money to drink his past away. Later, he’d headed to Illinois. Then to Missouri, until finally, he’d traveled to Louisiana. He never stayed longer than a year in each state, and only a couple of months in a city. Phillip had just reached New Orleans, deciding to go into a bar in the French Quarter, for the lack of anything else to do. That was where he had first met William, who is now Phillip's closest friend. Together with others of William's – and now Phillip's - friends, they had begun to spend time in each other's company. Phillip had learned that most of them were acrobats and dancers from different states and cities, and even countries. They had taught Phillip everything that he knew today. They even said he had surpassed them, calling Phillip their leader just to spite him. Despite the teasing, they were the reason why Phillip stayed in New Orleans.

A year later, combining their saved monies, they had purchased a rundown bar, rebuilding it to make way for what was today a popular spot for all sorts of people. They only opened in the evening, choosing to practice the acrobatic arts in the streets by day. The people of New Orleans were quite open minded where Phillip and his troop were concerned. They applauded, cheered, sung with them, and even hired them on occasion to perform for special events. They were treated with respect.  

 

Back to the present, as Phillip enters his home with a nostalgic yet content sigh, he is greeted by none other than William, who still looks like he hasn't quite woken up yet. William stares at him.

 

“What has you smiling so goddamn early in the morning?” William asks, voice groggy with sleep.

 

“Look at the article on page two.” Phillip answers, throwing the paper to his friend's face, who catches it inches before it hits him.

 

William sits down on the nearest chair, opening the paper. Phillip expects it might take him awhile, what with his brain still half asleep and all. Phillip sits down opposite him, setting his mug on the small table in between them. He takes a moment to once again appreciate his friend. William and him had immediately hit it off, both running away from their families’ constricting ways. The man had arrived in Louisiana about a year and a half prior to Phillip, and had slowly made his way to New Orleans, meeting other acrobats on the way. William had been the one to coax Phillip out of his shell; building his confidence, shattering the walls that kept Phillip's true personality hidden away. After months of talking outside on starry nights and laughing loudly in coffee shops about the most inane to the most personal issues, Phillip feels strong and positive about himself, his choices, his skills, and even his sexuality. He doesn't let himself be pushed around anymore, talked down to, or frowned upon.

 

“Oh.” William finally says, eyebrows raised in surprise. “I had heard a rumor about this Circus, but I thought it was a joke.”

 

“Doesn't it sound _fun,_ though?” Phillip leans in, showing all his teeth.

 

“What are you planning, Phil?” William asks, eyes narrowing.

 

“What do you think about taking a road trip?” Phillip asks back.

 

“I think we're going on a road trip whether I agree to it or not-”

 

“Damn straight we are.” Phillip stands up, chuckling. “Gather up the others.”

 

Phillip walks to the bar with his cup, grabbing a clean one, and pours them each some coffee.

 

“My friend,” Phillip declares, still grinning like a madman, “We're going to New York.”

 

-

 

The next day, Phillip and ‘his’ troop are standing outside of their bar, bags in hands. They set the 'Closed' sign on the door, and head for the train station. The travel time to New York City is about one day and a half, during which Phillip and his friends sing and play games, noticing how the closer they get to New York, the more annoyed newcomers seem to be of their presence. It doesn't stop them from having their fun. They have reserved two cabins; in one are Phillip, William, George, Eve-Marie, Gabrielle, Frederic, Mel, and Cassandra, and in the other are Calista, Eliza, Matthew, Thomas, Benjamin, Clarence, and Emma.

 

In these four years since they've formed their modest troop, they've all grown very fond of one and all, ready to help and defend each other, arm in arm. They have no secrets to hide from one another, no shame in expressing their thoughts. They are in sync with their bodies, all of them incredible dancers, flexible acrobats, and delightful singers. All in all, they make a breathtakingly alluring show, and they know it. They also know who their ace in the cards is; Phillip.

Phillip knows this as well.

 

When they finally arrive in New York, they’re all a little tired, but excited nonetheless. For most of them, it's the first time they've set foot in the city that never sleeps. It's around lunch time, so they decide to head to their lodging to drop off their bags. They'll be staying with Cassandra's cousin, who happens to live near Broadway. They find their way without much fuss, getting the occasional odd look due to their number, and possibly because Thomas and Eliza are dark skinned. Phillip tsks at the New Yorkers’ narrow mindedness. After having dropped off their belongings, they have lunch together in a little cafe in Central Park, and later decide to separate into four groups, each wanting to sight see something different. They set a time to meet up back at Cassandra's cousin's.

Mel, Clarence, Eve-Marie, and Thomas go North, Gabrielle, Cassandra, Matthew, and George walk East, Benjamin, Calista, Eliza, and Frederic make West, and Phillip, William, and Emma head South.

Phillip says he wants to go buy the tickets for tonight's show, to make sure they're not sold out. After all, it would be a shame if they ended up coming to New York for no reason - Phillip definitely is not counting on dropping by his parent's house for afternoon tea. They arrive in front of the building labeled 'Barnum Circus', Phillip raising a brow at the decorative posters draped over it.

 

“Well, that doesn't look like a Circus...” William mutters after a while of them just standing there, Phillip between him and Emma.

 

Emma swats at him playfully, and just as Phillip is about to agree somewhat, a voice speaks up.

 

“It may not look like one.” A man says behind them, voice deep and radiating influence. “But that's because you haven't seen the show.”

 

They all turn to the man curiously, looking him up and down. He's dressed casually yet business like, a top hat on his head, a cane in his hand, and wearing a self assured smirk.

 

“Gentlemen.” He greets, then tips his hat off to Emma. “My lady.” He smiles charmingly.

 

Emma curtsies in mock seriousness, causing William to roll his eyes at her. Phillip’s are too focused on the man before them.

 

“Name's P.T Barnum, at your service.” The man, Barnum, says.

 

“From the Circus?” William asks, pointing at the building behind them with his thumb.

 

“The Greatest Show on Earth, as we call it.” Barnum states with a proud smile.

 

Phillip hasn't said a word yet, too captivated by the man's...self. William glances at his friend questionably, then back at Barnum, a look of comprehension in his eyes, and smiles, extending his hand to the Circus owner.

 

“William Davis.”

 

They shake hands. Emma offers hers.

 

“Emma Wilson.”

 

He kisses her knuckles, then turns to Phillip, who doesn't extend his. They stare at each other with calculating looks. An unknown feeling settles in Phillip’s stomach. An electric feeling, of sorts.

 

“Phil?” Emma whispers just loud enough for him to hear, William looking at him too.

 

Phillip doesn't answer, just flicks his wrist slightly, and William nods, turning back to Barnum.

 

“Would you mind telling us where we can buy tickets for tonight's show?” He asks him.

 

Barnum tears his gaze away from Phillip, smiling at William, as if the past fifteen seconds didn't happen.

 

“Of course. It's right over there by the zebra statue. Don't pay attention to the grumpy sales clerk, he's always like that.” He laughs, William and Emma chuckling politely. “Now if you'll excuse me, we have a show to rehearse. I will see you three tonight then.”

 

“We're actually going to be a few more.” Emma says, making Barnum's everlasting smile broaden.

 

“Well, the more the merrier!” Barnum retorts, spinning his cane.

 

“We are all looking forward to your show, Mr. Barnum.” William adds.

 

“And we are happy to provide it, Mr. Davis, Ms. Wilson.” Barnum looks at Phillip who is still studying every detail of his face. “Until tonight.” He tips his hat, and walks away to one of the back doors of his building, stopping only briefly to glance back at Phillip before disappearing inside.

 

“Phil, you alright?” Emma asks, as Phillip grins.

 

“I'm more than alright, Ems.” He says. “This trip might even become more interesting than I thought.”

 

Both Emma and William groan in exasperation, elbowing him from both sides, making Phillip step away towards the ticket booth with a laugh.

 

“Come on, let's buy those tickets and meet back with the others.”

 

-

 

Once they've all met up back at their temporary housing, they eat a light dinner there, Phillip telling his troop about this P.T Barnum they had met earlier.

 

“A charming man.” Phillip says, earning a laugh from both Emma and William.

 

“You should have seen Phillip!” The latter exclaims. “He didn't say a single word to that Barnum fellow, but he had _that_ look in his eyes again!”

 

The entire table starts groaning and laughing, knowing full well how this might end.

 

“Are we to expect a longer stay here, then?” Calista asks over the excited chatter.

 

The noise cuts off suddenly, the troop leaning in in anticipation. Phillip laughs.

 

“Calm your horses, people.” He says while playing with his fork. “I mean, the man may be attractive, but we'll see how his show plays out. After all, he's just the owner, nothing really exciting there. I might squeeze him in for a little ‘care’ later, if I feel like it, but it’s not a priority.”

 

A few disappointed mumbles make Phillip snicker to himself.

 

“Although I hear their trapeze artists are a phenomenon.” He says, brushing off the non important subject, still twirling his fork.

 

“I was told their songs were breathtaking.” Eliza adds dreamily.

 

“Didn't someone say there was a werewolf or something?” Asks Frederic, making both Benjamin and Thomas swat him over the head.

 

“I heard their Ringmaster is quite a sight to watch.” Matthew interjects.

 

“Oh, I hope they have a fire act!” Eve-Marie cries excitedly.

 

“None can compare to yours, my dear.” Phillip reminds her, making the woman smile lovingly at him.

 

“Yeah, and _I'm_ sure none of their dancing skills can level with yours, Phi.” Gabrielle declares, her French accent always bringing a smile to Phillip’s face.

 

The whole crew cheers at that statement, making Phillip clap twice for silence, standing up from his seat at the head of the wooden table.

 

“Now, now, you don't need to tell me that...” Phillip lifts his drink with a smirk. “I already know.”

 

They all burst out laughing, throwing their napkins at Phillip.

 

-

 

They head out to the Circus, arriving a few minutes before show time. The New Orleans troop take their seats, relatively in the middle of the bleachers, giving them a good view of the ring. As the room begins to fill out and the lights dim, Phillip notices a flash of red in the corner of the ring. He leans forward a little bit to try to catch a glance at who he presumes to be the Ringmaster, judging by the long red and gold coat. His eyebrows raise in surprise as the figure turns slightly, revealing the face of none other than the owner of the Circus himself. His interest peeked, Phillip stands up, telling his friends he'll be right back, and heads down to where Barnum is talking with a dark skinned man wearing an odd purple costume. As Phillip approaches, the other man sees him, nods at Barnum, and turns to disappear behind the curtain. Phillip stops right behind the taller man.

 

“Mr. Barnum.” Phillip says, addressing him for the first time.

 

Barnum turns, a smile at the ready, eyes lighting up in recognition at seeing Phillip.

 

“So you do talk!” Barnum declares, his tone slightly mocking yet welcoming. “Do you also happen to have a name to match that pretty face of yours?”

 

Phillip raises an eyebrow at the man's baiting, willing his mild irritation away, choosing instead to smirk at him.

 

“Yes, yes I do.” Phillip answers dismissively. “Now Mr. Barnum, you didn't tell us you were going to be the Ringmaster tonight.”

 

It's Barnum's turn to raise a brow at Phillip's continued refusal to share his name, as he smirks back.

 

“To be fair, I am the only Ringmaster here, but the best one there is nonetheless.”

 

Phillip laughs at the man's self praise.

 

“Presumptuous, aren't you?” Phillip says, eyeing the well built man up and down appreciatively.

 

Before the Ringmaster can respond to that comment, Phillip steps forward, and continues:

 

“I hope you won't disappoint then, Mr. Barnum.” He draws out the man's name, his voice lowering.

 

“I never do, _pretty boy_.” Barnum takes the next step, leaving only a small distance between the two men.

 

They stare at each other, until the lights start flickering, indicating the start of the show.

 

“Well go on then, _Ringmaster,_ ” Phillip purrs, “ _Impress me_.”

 

Seeing Barnum's jaw clench, Phillip huffs a derisive laugh, pivoting around to walk back to his seat.

 

He feels Barnum's eyes bore a hole through his skull, so he stops in his tracks a few feet away, turning his head to the side slightly, waiting.

 

“ _Oh, I will_.” Barnum growls at him.

 

Phillip clicks his tongue, and resumes his walk to join the others on the bleachers.

However, the lights all suddenly shut off, making Phillip halt on the underside of one of the bleachers as darkness surrounds him. He decides to wait for at least one light to turn back on for him to continue his trek, as he doesn't want to accidentally step or trip on some bystander.

He feels something brush past him, as the music starts, the public already banging to the rhythm. The vibration of the people slamming their feet on the wood sending adrenaline through his veins. Then, a deafening silence.

  
“ _Ladies and gents, this is the moment you've waited for”_


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hullo!
> 
> This is going to be a few chapters long, so I hope y'all enjoy the ride!
> 
> Thank you to Nerdy_snowflake and my Mello for helping me along. And Puff for the cover! Love y'all!
> 
> Comments and kudoseseseses fuel my brain ;)

Chapter 2

 

 

 

 

 

“ _Ladies and gents, this is the moment you've waited for”_

 

One light turns on, but Phillip stays perfectly still, his eyes zeroing on Barnum, who is standing only a few feet away.

 

“ _Been searching in the dark, your sweat soaking through the floor”_

 

The Ringmaster shifts positions, his head turning towards Phillip, their eyes meeting.

 

“ _And buried in your bones there's an ache that you can't ignore”_

 

He shifts again, his cane swishing through the sawdust.

 

“ _Taking your breath, stealing your mind_

_And all that was real is left behind”_

 

Barnum approaches him, as Phillip's face remains impassive.

 

“ _Don't fight it, it's coming for you, running at ya_

_It's only this moment, don't care what comes after”_

 

His face is now inches away from Phillip's, whose expression still reveals nothing.

 

_“Your fever dream, can't you see it getting closer_

_Just surrender 'cause you feel the feeling taking over”_

 

Barnum smiles cheekily at him, before pulling away and running towards the ring.

 

“ _It's fire, it's freedom, it's flooding open_

_It's a preacher in the pulpit and you'll find devotion”_

 

Phillip regains his seat, his eyes glued to the unfolding of the show, or more accurately, to the Ringmaster himself. He tracks his every movement, absorbs every word he sings, and most of all, commits every single show of the man's overconfident attitude to memory.

 _Oh, this will be a lot of fun indeed_ , Phillip thinks to himself. He wants to break this man - this _Circus King -_ make him his, shatter him into pieces in the throes of ecstasy. He wants the Ringmaster's submission. _And by God, he_ will _have it!_

 

-

 

The show comes to an end. The cheers and applause are thunderous, echoing all around them. Phillip makes no move to stand up – his troop following his lead - as the audience makes for the exit, Barnum thanking them all for coming.

After a few minutes, they are the only ones left. The Circus inhabitants eye them suspiciously at first, approaching them cautiously. The same dark skinned man that Phillip saw earlier calls them out:

 

“Gentlemen,” He says sternly, “And ladies.” He adds. “The show is over, we're going to have to ask you to leave.”

 

Phillip tears his gaze away from his point of interest, to look at the trapeze artist.

 

“You are quite talented, Mr...?” Phillip says as he stands up, his crew imitating the move, his voice catching Barnum's attention, who starts walking towards the group.

 

“Wheeler.” The purple clad man says.

 

“Mr. Wheeler.” Phillip acknowledges with a respectful nod of his head, mirrored by his troop. “As are all of you.”

 

This catches the oddities by surprise, but they seem to relax slightly, even as the strangers descend from the bleachers, coming face to face with the Circus owner.

 

“How kind of you to say.” Barnum quips at Phillip. “Can we expect to see you again, Mr...?”

 

Phillip chuckles at the new attempt to learn his name, but decides to indulge him.

 

“You've given me such a pleasant evening, Mr. Barnum.” Phillip starts and pauses for a couple seconds. “The least I can give you in return is my name.”

 

Phillip extends his hand.

 

“Phillip Carlyle, a pleasure.” He purrs.

 

Some of the artists in the ring gasps at his last name, Barnum barely suppressing the widening of his own eyes, as he reaches out to clasp the offered hand. The Ringmaster gives him his signature lopsided smile.

 

“The pleasure's all mine, Mr. Carlyle.” He pulls Phillip towards him just a fraction, but it's enough for Phillip's troop to take a defensive stance, some growling.

 

Phillip chuckles as Barnum jumps slightly, startled, before raising his free hand in a silent order to stand down. The effect is immediate as the fourteen visitors visibly calm.

 

“And to answer your question, Mr. Barnum,” Phillip continues as if nothing happened, “Yes, you can expect to see us again.” He squeezes the other man's calloused hand before releasing it.

 

“When will you be coming back, then?” A woman asks from her position in the ring, a hesitant smile adorning her face.

 

Phillip turns to her, recognizing the voice belonging to the Bearded Lady. He smiles at her.

 

“Well, Ms...?”

 

“Lutz. Lettie Lutz.”

 

“Ms. Lutz, we will be returning here tomorrow night.”

 

“But it's Sunday tomorrow.” Phillip looks at the second trapeze artist, a beautiful woman. “We don't have any shows on Sundays, Mr. Carlyle.”

 

“Exactly, Ms...Wheeler, I assume?” She nods. “You and your brother share the same light in your eyes.” She smiles shyly, as Phillip focuses his attention back to the confused man in front of him.

 

“We'd like to audition.” Phillip deadpans.

 

There's a moment of silence, Phillip's friends showing none of the surprise they feel, while Barnum's oddities express their shock in various ways; some of them gasp, others whisper among themselves, and others simply raise their eyebrows. Barnum is part of the latter.

 

“And what makes you think you've got what it takes to join _my_ Circus, mm?” He asks, his skepticism loud and clear.

 

Phillip is loving this attitude. It'll be even more fun to prove him wrong.

 

“Guess we'll just have to show you, won't we?” He answers, his voice daring Barnum to accept.

 

“Tomorrow morning then.” Barnum says, and Phillip scoffs.

 

“Oh please. No one's going to want to get up on a Sunday morning, am I right?”

 

He gets mumbled agreements from the Circus artists, making him laugh at Barnum's disbelieving expression.

 

“Tomorrow night at nine, we'll be here.” Phillip declares, sobering up.

 

Phillip doesn't wait for a reply, simply flicks his wrist, and his troop start emptying out, walking around him and Barnum, as they step out of the building. Only William lingers near the exit.

Phillip offers the Ringmaster a parting smile, and starts heading out, only to be grabbed by the wrist by the taller man. William is immediately at Phillip's side, looking menacingly at the man.

 

“Du calme, William. (Calm down, William.)” Phillip tells him quietly. “Attends-moi dehors, veux-tu? (Wait for me outside, will you?)”

 

William nods stiffly, and walks out. Phillip pulls at his wrist sharply, making Barnum release his hold.

 

“Nice French, Mr. Carlyle.” He says with a smirk.

 

“Is there something else you wanted, Mr. Barnum?” Phillip drawls in a bored tone.

 

“What's your goal here?” The man asks, his intimidating voice having no effect on Phillip.

 

“I don't know what you mean.” Phillip answers innocently. “Now if you don't mind, I'll be heading out, lest I start losing my patience with you.”

 

Phillip turns away, not stopping until he's opened the door.

 

“Until tomorrow, _Ringmaster._ ” He calls over his shoulder, before stepping out into the night.

 

-

 

Phillip and his crew make their way back to their host's house in relative silence. No one speaks a word to Phillip, as they notice he's deep in thought. It's only as they settle down in the living room, Cassandra and Benjamin bringing them drinks, that Phillip starts to speak:

 

“Does anyone have any questions regarding tomorrow?” He asks.

 

“Uh, yeah.” Frederic starts. “Since when are we _auditioning_ to join the Barnum Circus?”

 

“Since Phillip here wants to get into that guy's pants!” Calista exclaims, earning a round of laughs.

 

“Is that really it?” Eliza asks.

 

“You should have seen the way Phil was undressing him with his eyes!” William says.

 

“Are you kidding me! He was practically ripping his clothes off!” Eve-Marie rectifies.

 

They all laugh at Phillip's expense, earning a chuckle from Phillip himself.

 

“Alright alright, settle down.” They do. “Yes, we're auditioning for the Circus, but we're not joining. Cali's right. I just want to make that arrogant Ringmaster swallow his tongue-”

 

“More like swallow something else...” Thomas mutters. Phillip throws him a smirk.

 

“And yes, my reasons are purely sexual. Anyone got a problem with that?”

Phillip knows they don't. On the contrary. They are all open minded people, they've all done things that would be called offensive and indecent by society. Every one of them is intimately acquainted with the other as well. So is Phillip. They are the ones who taught Phillip most of what he knows today in that area too. What they did not expect was the hunger for dominance that Phillip had developed over the years. They shouldn't have been surprised, really, seeing how natural he is at the fine art of sex, after all. That's also what makes their own shows so bewitching; their sexual chemistry, lead by Phillip's own - almost violent - need for control.

 

“So what's so special about this guy that we need to put on an entire show for him?” Mel asks from her sprawled position on Matthew.

 

“Well you see, my friends.” Phillip stands up, and starts walking around them. “This man is full of confidence and charm and arrogance.” He caresses Mel and Matthew's faces. “He entices people all around him, hypnotizing them with his voice,” He rubs Cassandra's shoulders, “His mannerisms.” He grips Clarence's hair in one hand and Emma's in the other. “The way he draws them in is powerful and addictive.” Phillip stands in front of them again. “He is imperious in the way he wishes to control everything and everyone. And I _love_ it.” He finishes, delighted in the way his troop melts away at his voice and touches.

 

There's a moment of silence during which they regain their senses.

 

“So...” William starts. “Basically he's like you.” They all hum in agreement, and Phillip smiles, showing all his teeth.

 

“Yes. But _he_ , unlike me, can be broken.” Phillip purrs. “ _Will_ be broken.”

 

He sees some of them lick their lips, while the others are smirking, their minds on the same wavelength as their leader's.

 

“My friends,” He continues, “Tomorrow, we'll be giving them a show they won't forget.”

 

“Do you mean-” William starts.

 

“Yes.” Phillip's smile turns almost devilish. “Get ready for Number Six.”


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hullo!
> 
> This is going to be a few chapters long, so I hope y'all enjoy the ride!
> 
> Thank you to Nerdy_snowflake and my Mello for helping me along. And Puff for the cover! Love y'all!
> 
> Comments and kudoseseseses fuel my brain ;)
> 
> IF YOU WANT A BETTER VISUAL OF THAT SCENE, HERE'S A LINK TO HER MAJESTY BRITNEY SPEARS:

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lVhJ_A8XUgc>

 

Chapter 3

 

 

 

“Yes.” Phillip's smile turns almost devilish. “Get ready for Number Six.”

 

-

 

All throughout the next day, the New Orleans troop rehearses their number, until it is perfect. Even more than perfect, in fact. By nightfall, they pack their equipment, and head back down to the Barnum Circus with a spring in their steps, and light coats to cover their outfits.

As their enter the building, Phillip deciding not to bother knocking, they are greeted by the sound of voices and music.

 

“ _Come one!_

_Come all!_

_You hear_

_The call”_

 

The circus is dark, but for the ring drowned in light. Phillip and his troop seem to have walked in right during the other artists' rehearsals, as they are all dancing and singing in the center stage in their costumes. However, Barnum is not among them.

Phillip leans against a pillar, content for now to observe, the sight of them even more pleasing without the loud crowds cheering.

 

“ _To anyone who's searching for a way to break free”_

_(Break free_

_Break free)_

 

Ah. There he is. Phillip follows him with his eyes, lust already coursing through his veins.

 

“ _When the world becomes a fantasy_

_And you're more than you could ever be_

_'Cause you're dreaming with your eyes wide open_

_And we know we can't be go back again_

_To the world that we were living in_

_'Cause we're dreaming with our eyes wide open_

 

_When the world becomes a fantasy_

_And you're more than you could ever be_

_'Cause you're dreaming with your eyes wide open_

_And we know we can't be go back again_

_To the world that we were living in_

_'Cause we're dreaming with our eyes wide open_

_'Cause we're dreaming with our eyes wide open_

 

_So come alive!”_

 

The oddities all cheer and clap each other on their backs, the song having come to an end. Phillip jerks his head indicating for his crew to follow him out of the shadows, clapping. Barnum and the others all turn to them, tensing before recognizing the new comers. They take a bow, laughing, as Barnum meets Phillip half way, red and gold coat gleaming in the light.

 

“How long have you been standing there?” He asks, still a little winded.

 

Phillip watches as Barnum wipes away a tickle of sweat from his brow, imagining what the man would look like covered in it and moaning as he's being pounded into-

 

“We just came in, actually.” Phillip answers eventually, circling around the other man, shamelessly taking him in. “You do make for quite a show, Mr. Barnum.”

 

Barnum just hums low in his throat, not quite catching on to the phrasing.

 

“Don't tell me you're getting nervous, now, are you?” Barnum turns back fully to face the younger man, making Phillip and his crew snicker.

 

“On the contrary.” Phillip gestures for his friends to mingle with – distract – the others. “It gives me more of an incentive, among other things.”

 

“Is that so?” His voice lowers, Phillip just smirking in return. “Tell me, _Mr. Carlyle_ , where are you from?”

 

Phillip raises an unimpressed brow at him.

 

“Don't play coy with me, Mr. Barnum, you know where I'm from, you know my name.” He drawls, annoyed.

 

“In that case, do clear up something for me, will you?” He pauses, a sly smirk forming on his lips. “What's a _posh boy_ like you doing _here_?”

 

The chatter around them comes to a sudden halt. Phillip's electric blue eyes burn through Barnum's deep hazel ones. His smirk is infuriating, and only fuels Phillip's desire to wipe it off his face, as he leans in.

 

“You're about to find out.” Phillip whispers, and spins the other way, snapping his fingers. Thomas and Clarence quickly set up three chairs in the center of the ring facing the empty public, while Eve-Marie gestures for their audience to sit down.

 

The oddities take a seat on the first and second rows in the middle of the bleachers, leaving a space for Barnum on the first one, who sits down with an indulging grin.

 

“So what will you be performing for us tonight, _Mr. Carlyle_?” Barnum calls out, empathizing Phillip's last name again, trying to rile him up.

 

Phillip, already in the ring grabbing his own cane, turns around and offers them a smile.

 

“Let's just say you'll be blown away.” He says sweetly, approaching them.

 

Barnum scoffs.

 

“Now that, I beg to see.” His signature smirk is back in place, condescending.

 

Phillip simply cocks his head at him.

 

“You like to _beg_ , Mr. Barnum?” He asks with mock innocence, a vibrant pleasure at seeing Barnum's smirk falter.

 

Phillip walks away, followed by the oddities' muffled laughs at the expense of their own Ringmaster.

 

-

 

One by one, Phillip's troop take off their coats, revealing their 'costumes' for the incoming show:

 

All the men are wearing similar black boots, a variety of provocative shirts and pants, each of various dark colors and questionable sizes – some wearing no shirts at all – with matching black suspenders. Each of them has either a trilby or bowler black hat.

 

The women have a wider variety of suggestive apparel. Some are wearing dark sparkling leotards of different colors and shapes, whiles others model short tight dresses, strapless or stomach-less. Their heels, while somewhat high and intimidating, do not interfere with their movement.

 

Phillip is still wearing a regular white, long sleeved shirt.

 

They get a few whistles from their audience, although Barnum only shakes his head slowly, as the lights shut off.

 

“Lighten up, Barnum.” Lettie elbows him. “This is going to be fun! And besides, don't you think they make for a good looking bunch?”

 

“Really, who does this Carlyle boy think he is? Coming to _my_ Circ-” Charles interrupts his rant him with a - surprisingly – strong hit to the knee, making Barnum's top hat shake.

 

A dim light turns on, and the music starts.

 

Phillip is sitting in the center chair, hidden by his troop. He starts to sing:

 

“ _There's only two types of people in the world”_

 

They all jerk away, revealing Phillip, his back straight against the chair, legs crossed, as Barnum's eyes widen slightly.

He's wearing black leather pants with long boots to match, a fishnet tank top leaving nothing to the imagination. Around his neck is a collar. A clerical collar, of all things. Only his right hand is clad in a black leather glove.

 

“ _The ones that entertain, and the ones that observe”_

 

Phillip spreads his legs far apart, hands on each knee. Barnum's mouth becomes a bit dry.

 

“ _Well darling I'm a put-on-a-show kinda guy”_

 

He stands up, graceful and hypnotic, as the troop follows him.

 

_“Don't like the backseat, gotta be first”_

 

They spread out, and begin dancing to the rhythm.

 

“ _I'm like the ringleader”_

 

The men take off their hats, pointing them towards Phillip.

 

“ _I call the shots (call the shots)”_

 

Their bodies snapping in accordance.

 

“ _I'm like a firecracker_

_I make it hot”_

 

The troop approaches their leader.

 

_“When I put on a show”_

 

They surround Phillip, touching and caressing him from his hair down to his boots.

 

“ _I feel the adrenaline moving through my veins”_

 

Phillip's own hands roam over his chest, to his throat, eyes closing in an imitation of erotic bliss.

 

“ _Spotlight on me and I'm ready to break”_

 

They get on one knee while the other faces outward, before standing back up, the fluidity of the movement similar to a wave.

 

“ _I'm like a performer, the dance floor is my stage”_

 

They catch Phillip as he turns and bends backwards into their arms, his eyes catching sight of Barnum's intense gaze.

 

“ _Better be ready, hope ya feel the same”_

 

They push him back up, and take their positions, Phillip in the front.

 

“ _All the eyes on me in the center of the ring_

_Just like a circus”_

 

Their dancing is sharp, precise and alluring.

 

“ _When I crack that whip, everybody goin' trip”_

 

Phillip kicks at the sawdust.

 

“ _Just like a circus_

_Don't stand there watching me, follow me_

_Show me what you can do”_

 

Phillip raises his arms to the side, like an invitation.

 

“ _Everybody let go, we can make a dance floor_

_Just like a circus”_

 

Phillip catches the whip William throws at him, just as the light shuts off, only to turn back on, showing Phillip with a boot on the center chair, Emma and Mel copying him on the other two chairs in a triangle formation.

 

“ _There's only two types of guys out there,”_

 

They each swing their leg over the back of their chair, ending up sitting, legs spreads.

 

“ _Ones that can hang with me,”_

 

Phillip unfolds his whip, straightening with it behind his head, circling his throat. Clarence and Benjamin each take a hold of the other end of the whip tied around Phillip's neck.

 

“ _And ones that are scared”_

 

They pull. Phillip's head tilts back exaggeratedly.

 

“ _So darling I hope that you came prepared”_

 

Phillip slides his hands from his knees to his crotch, showcasing himself, then in one swift move stands back up, removing the whip from around his throat.

 

“ _I run a tight ship”_

 

Phillip and a few others cracks the whips simultaneously in different corners of the ring.

 

“ _So, beware”_

 

The sawdust rises, creating a curtain, as the light flashes off, only to turn back on the next second. This second allows Phillip to grab his cane and move towards his prey.

 

“ _I'm like the ringleader”_

 

Their audience jumps back slightly at seeing Phillip appear so close suddenly, Barnum meeting his eyes.

 

“ _I call the shots”_

 

Phillip plants the end of his cane on Barnum's chest, the clenching of his jaw the only indicator of his surprise.

 

“ _(call the shots)”_

 

Phillip pushes the cane, slamming him against the backrest of the hard bench. Phillip smirks as Barnum fails to contain a wince.

 

“ _I'm like a firecracker”_

 

The cane descends slowly.

 

_I make it hot_

 

It brushes Barnum's groin, the man's lips parting in shock.

 

“ _When I put on a show”_

 

Phillip gracefully sits in his lap, his strong yet slender thighs draping over Barnum's slightly spread muscular ones.

 

“ _I feel the adrenaline moving through my veins”_

 

Phillip brings the cane smoothly up to press horizontally under Barnum's jaw, his leathered hand grazing him.

 

“ _Spotlight on me and_ you _'re ready to break”_

 

Phillip adds pressure until Barnum tilts his head back, hands curled up on the wood, his expression one of anger and arousal.

 

“ _I'm like a performer, the dance floor is my stage”_

 

Phillip leans over the Ringmaster's face, his lips almost brushing against the other man's.

 

“ _Better be ready,”_

 

Phillip smirks, and swiftly grabs Barnum's top hat, standing up.

 

“ _Hope that ya feel the same”_

 

He walks back towards the ring, hat on his head, and joins his crew mid step.

 

“ _All the eyes on me in the center of the ring_

_Just like a circus”_

 

Lettie is the one to snap Barnum out of his daze with a jab to his side. He realizes that his hat has been stolen.

 

_“When I crack that whip, everybody goin' trip_

_Just like a circus”_

 

He stands up and stalks angrily towards the ring, intent on getting back what's his, and put an end to this - admittingly breathtaking - charade of a show.

 

_“Don't stand there watching me, follow me_

_Show me what you can do”_

 

Phillip smirks at him, daring him to come closer.

 

_“Everybody let go, we can make a dance floor”_

 

The performers create a brief circle of fire around a startled Barnum, leaving him blinking rapidly, eyes wide from the close proximity of the flames.

 

“ _Just like a circus”_

 

The mix of flashing lights and suffocating sawdust makes the Showman's head spin, added by the dancers moving at a blurred rapid pace, as he looks around, disoriented, for Carlyle.

 

“ _Let's go”_

 

Suddenly Barnum is somehow slammed down onto a chair, facing the curtain, _facing_ a - hatless - Phillip. The other dancers continue their show, misleading any prying eyes away from the two men.

 

“ _Let me see what you can do”_

 

Barnum's growl goes unheard over the music, but Phillip catches it nonetheless. He tries to stand up from the wooden chair.

 

_“I'm runnin' this (like, like, like, like a circus)”_

 

Phillip cracks his whip – where did it come from – at the chair, forcing Barnum to lean back and spread his legs to avoid getting hit.

 

“ _Yeah_

_Like a what? (like, like, like, like a circus)”_

 

Phillip leaves the lyrics to his fellow artists and disregards the leather instrument, focusing his full attention on the man before him. ( _All the eyes on me in the center of the ring)_ He slowly climbs on Barnum's lap _(Just like a circus)_ , this time pressing down on his groin _(When I crack that whip, everybody goin' trip)._ Barnum's irises turn black, his hands gripping the chair in an effort to ground himself, as he swallows heavily _(Just like a circus)._ Phillip uses his hand to grip at the other man's hair, pulling his head back, as his gloved one grabs Barnum's jaw roughly _(Don't stand there watching me, follow me)_ Phillip can feel the quickening of the older man's breath, the rapid rising and falling of his chest, _(Show me what you can do)_ as he rubs himself sensually on him, feeling the interest of Barnum's member under him. _(Everybody let go, we can make a dance floor)_ Phillip can see how Barnum is trying to keep himself from reacting, both vocally and physically. He takes it as a challenge. Phillip leans in close to Barnum's ear - noting how his hazel eyes close - making sure to push his weight down, and is rewarded by a low moan. _Gotcha_ . He chuckles, as he presses down again, earning a deep growl this time. _(Just like a circus)_

 

“Carlyle, get of-” Barnum's protest dies on his tongue, as Phillip pulls his hair and thrusts hard onto him, a choked cry tearing itself from the other man's throat. _(All the eyes on me in the center of the ring)_

That sound sends liquid fire into Phillip's veins, as his lips brush against the shell of Barnum's ear.

 

“Not so cocky now, are you, _Ringmaster_ ?” Phillip whispers hotly _(Just like a circus),_ only to tilt his own head to the side to lick a long, wet stripe along Barnum's throat. Barnum keens loudly.

 

The noise only encourages Phillip further, as he begins to fully - and at an agonizing pace - grind his hips onto the trembling man beneath him. _(When I crack that whip, everybody goin' trip)_ Unbeknownst to Barnum – too distracted by the arousing friction between them – Phillip's covered hand lets go of its hold, and extends to the side, expecting ( _Just like a circus)_ . As soon as a familiar, cold-as-steel weight is put upon it, he retracts it, and holds it to his chest. Phillip takes Barnum's ear tip between his teeth and gives it a single bite, while the hand that was in his hair slides down to take a hold of the solid object. Barnum moans again, his own hands coming to settle on Phillip's thighs, fingers digging into him. Phillip lets him, if only for the sole purpose of keeping him busy. _(Don't stand there watching me, follow me)_ Phillip smirks as he clasps the collar around Barnum's throat _(Show me what you can do)._ The Ringmaster's eyes snap open at the sudden cold sensation. Phillip laughs, and stands up _(Everybody let go_ ), leaving Barnum frowning, his hands coming up to his throat. _(we can make a dance floor)_ Phillip regains his place at the front of the Ring just as the song finishes.

 

“ _Just like a circus”_

 

They strike their final pose.

 


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hullo!
> 
> This is going to be a few chapters long, so I hope y'all enjoy the ride!
> 
> Thank you to Nerdy_snowflake and my Mello for helping me along. And Puff for the cover! Love y'all!
> 
> Comments and kudoseseseses fuel my brain ;)

Chapter 4

 

 

They strike their final pose.

 

 

-

 

The oddities stand up, applauding and cheering at the show they’ve just witnessed. Phillip and his troop take a bow, and are quickly joined by the spectators. Behind them, a furious looking Barnum stands up for his chair, and walks towards Phillip, grips his shoulder and spins him around.

 

“What the hell did you just put on me?!” Barnum shouts at him, drawing the attention of the people around them. The New Orleans troop knows to just let this happen, this time. Otherwise they would have tackled the angry Showman to the ground already, for being aggressive towards their Phillip.

 

Phillip just smirks at him, while the others gather close, trying to see what the commotion is about. It just takes one person to notice, and to whisper to another, for all of them to start laughing.

 

“Barnum! You have-” Lettie calls out, holding her sides in laughter. “You have-” She doesn’t manage to finish her sentence, as she and the others almost fall down in hysterics.

 

Barnum turns bright red, in anger and embarrassment, and walks - runs - backstage to go find a vanity with a mirror. When he does, he bends down slightly - the mirror being too low for him to see anything other than his midsection - and gasps. 

There, secured around his throat, is a gleaming, large, steel collar, a loop hanging at the middle. 

Barnum’s hands come up to test it, pulling, fiddling around for a lock, anything to get it off. His nervousness only increases as his fingers graze what feels like a keyhole on the back. With an angry snarl, he straightens up, intent on facing the arrogant brat at fault. His heart is still racing from their interactions just a few minutes earlier. However, this new development has successfully distracted thus disposed of the - admittingly strong - arousal he had felt earlier. As Barnum mentally prepares to be ridiculed - even if it isn’t mean spirited - by his so-called friends out there, a movement catches his eye. He looks up at the top of the stairs, just in time to see a flash of white disappear behind his office door. He swears, and rapidly ascends the stairs, opening the door and slamming it behind him. He is greeted by Phillip, leaning against the desk, who is wearing his white shirt once again, with the sleeves rolled back to his elbows. His coat is suspended on the hanger. Next to it, Barnum’s stolen top hat.

 

“Did you enjoy the show, Mr. Barnum?” Phillip asks innocently, examining his nails.

 

“Did I enjoy the-” Barnum sputters. “You’ve  _ got  _ to be joking!”

 

Phillip looks up at him, a little smirk playing at his lips, making Barnum growl menacingly. 

 

“Carlyle! Take that- that  _ thing _ off me!” He pulls at the collar.

 

Phillip pushes himself away from the desk, and approaches the fuming man, who’s eyeing his every step suspiciously. The younger man stops right in front of him. They stay silent for a few seconds. Barnum opens his mouth to demand again to be released, when, quick as a snake, Phillip hooks a gloved finger around the collar’s hoop, and pulls it towards him, a surprised cry escaping Barnum at the sudden movement. Phillip smirks, his eyes boring into Barnum’s.

 

“Wouldn’t that be shame? After all, I think you look rather fetching like this,  _ Ringmaster _ .” Phillip purrs, his voice sultry and low.

 

Barnum visibly swallows, and pulls back harshly, standing straight and imposing, Phillip releasing the loop with a fake pout.

 

“This has gone long enough, Carlyle.” He growls angrily. “Take it off.”

 

“There are a lot of things I would like to take off, Mr. Barnum.” Phillip quips with a smile. “Do try to be more specific.” He turns his back to the fuming Circus owner, walking over to the wall pretending to admire a painting. 

 

Phillip hears the footsteps come up behind him and is suddenly and none too gently shoved against the wall, his right arm grabbed and twisted behind his back, the side of his face flat against the hard surface. The position is not the most comfortable one Phillip has found himself in before - but it’s definitely not the worst one either - and he simply lets out a bark of surprised laughter.

 

“My, my, Mr. Barnum.” Phillip says jovially. “Aren’t we eager?” 

 

Barnum only twists his arm higher in warning, making Phillip chuckle in delight.

 

“Unlock the collar off my neck.” Barnum orders sharply, his mouth brushing Phillip’s ear.

 

“And if I don’t?” Phillip decides to indulge Barnum’s little display of power, for now.

 

“Then you need to be taught a  _ lesson  _ for your insolence _ , posh boy. _ ” Barnum growls, as he presses Phillip further into the wall, one leg nudging Phillip’s thighs apart.

 

Phillip grunts.

 

“So maybe,” Barnum continues, whispering huskily into Phillip’s ear, as he eases the leather glove off Phillip, throwing it to the floor, “I’ll just fuck you raw,  _ right here, right now _ .” 

 

And that’s enough.

 

“I would like to see you  _ try _ .” Phillip grinds out, and no sooner have the words left his mouth that Phillip pushes himself off the wall, his right leg coming to settle behind Barnum’s, forcing him backwards to trip onto Phillip’s grounded foot, making Barnum topple to the floor, landing on his back with a surprised yelp.

 

Phillip wastes no time in straddling the fallen man, his thighs on each side of Barnum’s waist, securing him down. He grabs the Ringmaster’s wrists in one strong hand, pinning them above the man’s head, while the other grips Barnum’s jaw in a painful hold.

 

“Let me make this perfectly clear for you, Mr. Barnum.” Phillip says, as the Showman groans. “The only way to remove your new-” Phillip slides his thumb over Barnum’s lips, down to the small hoop, flicking it, “-piece of jewellery, is by melting it, which I doubt you’ll want to try, or by having the key to it.” Phillip smirks. “Which only  _ I _ have.”

 

Barnum’s eyes narrow.

 

“And what is it you want for it?” He asks, his voice conveying his suspicion and anger, even as Phillip’s face breaks into a wide smile.

 

“Ah,  _ now _ you get it.” Phillip replies, rocking his hips once, pleased to hear a quiet gasp.

 

The Circus owner pulls at his wrists, but Phillip doesn’t let go - even tightens his grip.

 

“I’m not going to be  _ fucked _ by a pompous brat like you!” Barnum shouts, trying to buck Phillip off, struggling to move under the younger man’s weight and muscles.

 

“Who said anything about  _ fucking _ anyone, Mr. Barnum?” Phillip answers calmly, flicking the hoop again, even though he shifts his hips suggestively. “Well, you did, actually.” Phillip muses, raising an eyebrow at him. “A couple of minutes ago you didn’t even seem to have any qualms whatsoever about forcing yourself on me, isn’t that right?”

 

Barnum sputters indignantly.

 

“No, that’s not-” He tries, but Phillip cuts him off.

 

“If I had wanted to fuck you against your will, Mr. Barnum, I would have done so already, and there’s nothing you could have done to stop me.” Phillip deadpans, hooking a finger around the metal ring, pulling slightly. 

 

Barnum pulls at his wrists again, in vain.

 

“However,” Phillip adds, “That’s not what I do.”

 

Phillip digs his nails into Barnum’s wrists.

 

“For now,” Phillip continues, looking up and down Barnum’s face slowly, predatorily, “What I  _ do  _ want from you is quite simple.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Barnum snorts arrogantly, even from his current position. “And what is that?” 

 

Phillip smirks, and leans in, his face only inches away from Barnum’s flushed one, his eyes boring into the other man’s. Phillip doesn’t fail to notice the dilation in them. He tugs at the hoop sharply, making the Ringmaster groan weakly, his hips jerking minituously.

 

“Your submission.” He whispers entrancingly.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hullo!
> 
> This is going to be a few chapters long, so I hope y'all enjoy the ride!
> 
> Thank you to Nerdy_snowflake and my Mello for helping me along. And Puff for the cover! Love y'all!
> 
> Comments and kudoseseseses fuel my brain ;)

 

  _Previously:_

 

 

 

 

 

 

Phillip smirks, and leans in, his face only inches away from Barnum’s flushed one, his eyes boring into the other man’s. Phillip doesn’t fail to notice the dilation in them. He tugs at the hoop sharply, making the Ringmaster groan weakly, his hips jerking minituously.

 

“Your submission.” He whispers entrancingly.

 

 

Chapter 5

 

 

A moment’s pause.

 

“My _what_?” Barnum finally blurts out.

 

“You heard me.” Phillip replies, smirking.

 

“I am not some kind of animal!” Barnum snarls.

 

“I would like to see you try to convince the people of New York otherwise, not to mention the _press_ , after they’ll have seen you perform with a _collar_ around your pretty neck tomorrow night.” Phillip chuckles. “I can see the papers now: ‘P.T Barnum’s newest dog act, starring _himself_.”

 

Barnum glowers at him, but Phillip sees the doubt settling in his eyes.

 

“I’m sure the news will even reach me in New Orleans by Wednesday morning.” Phillip taunts, pushing at Barnum’s insecurity just a little more.

 

Then he sees it; determination to prevent this potential disaster and, finally, resignation.

 

 _Delicious_.

 

“Well, Mr. Barnum?” Phillip prompts after another minute of silence.

 

“F-Fine.” He whispers, tone hesitant, lowering his eyes.

 

“What was that?” Phillip squeezes Barnum’s wrists.

 

“I said ‘fine’.” The Circus owner grinds out, looking back up. “I’ll- I’ll do what you want.”

 

Phillip laughs derisively, leaning in closer.

 

“J-Just get this thing off me..” Barnum growls out.

 

“You don’t give orders anymore, Mr. Barnum.” Phillip smiles with faux sweetness. “Is that understood?”

 

Phillip’s tongue darts out to the other man’s cheek, tasting, teasing. Barnum’s jaw clenches.

 

“Y-Yes.” He grits out.

 

“Yes, what?” Phillip smirks against Barnum’s skin.

 

“Yes, _Carlyle_.” He ventures, making Phillip huff and nip at his cheekbone.

 

“Try again.”

 

“I don’t-”

 

“I’ll give you a hint.” Phillip whispers, rocking his hips slowly.

 

Barnum groans low in his throat, his member twitching despite his humiliation.

 

“It starts with an ‘S’.”

 

Barnum swallows with difficulty.

 

“Yes, _S-Sir?_ ” He says, unsure and mortified, to which Phillip hums approvingly.

 

“ _Good boy._ ”

 

Phillip releases his hold on Barnum’s wrists, and gracefully stands up. Barnum makes to follow, bringing his freed wrists to his sides, sitting up, but Phillip sets a foot on his chest, slamming him back down, making the other man gasp.

 

“Did I say you could _move_?” Phillip hisses, all traces of playfulness gone.

 

Barnum doesn’t respond, looking wide eyed at the man towering over him, knees half way up and hands flat on the floor next to him.

 

“Well?” Phillip demands.

 

“No...” Barnum answers slowly.

 

“No, _what_?” Phillip presses the man further against the hard wood, making Barnum wince.

 

“ _No, Sir_.” He grinds out.

 

“Good.”

 

Phillip keeps his position a few more seconds before stepping away. He walks to the door, locks it, and goes to sit in the only chair in the office, all the while pleased to note that his little project, his _plaything_ hasn’t moved. The chair faces Barnum a few feet away, but the man in question can only see Phillip from the corner of his eye.

Phillip just sits there, observing, imagining what he wants to make the man do first. He licks his lips. _What to start with?_

 

“Look at me.” Phillip calls out sharply.

 

Barnum turns his head towards him, expression carefully neutral. Phillip looks at him silently, their eyes exchanging a silent battle. Phillip knows he’s won it already.

 

“Stand up.” He tells Barnum. “And come over here.”

 

Barnum does, slowly, never breaking eye contact. He walks cautiously over to Phillip, stopping right in front of him. Phillip clicks his tongue.

 

“You’re so obedient.” He taunts, standing up in turn, circling him. “So anxious for me, so _weak_ at my command.”

 

Barnum swallows, jaw clenching and unclenching. Phillip stops behind him, standing on his toes to whisper low in Barnum’s ear:

 

“Isn’t that right, _Circus King_?”

 

Barnum stares straight ahead, silent and almost trembling from anger.

 

“ _Answer me,_ Barnum.” Phillip snaps at him coldly.

 

“Yes, Sir.” The older man hisses out.

 

Phillip chuckles mockingly, enjoying the inner turmoil the proud man is struggling with, as he threads his fingers through the curly dark brown hair, almost lovingly, making Barnum flinch. Phillip snickers, before stepping away, back to the center of the room.

 

“Come here.” Barnum does as instructed, scowling.

 

“Carlyle, for how long-” Barnum starts, irritation clear in his voice.

 

“Quiet.” Phillip cuts him curtly, stepping forward, shortening the distance between the two men, leaving only inches between their faces. “Speak only when spoken to, _darling_.”

 

Barnum growls, hands curling into fists.

 

“You can growl all you want.” Phillip admonishes. “You can _moan_ , you can _cry_ , you can even _scream_ .” He purrs lowly. “But talk again without my _explicit_ permission, and I’ll find a much better use for that troublesome tongue of yours.”

 

Barnum inhales sharply, and takes an unconscious step back, only for Phillip to grab him by the collar. Barnum’s eyes widen, lips parting in shock and slight fear, to which Phillip smirks.

 

“Now,” Phillip whispers, “On your knees for me, _Ringmaster_.”

 

-

 

Barnum jerks slightly in Phillip’s grasp, making the younger man pull swiftly at the collar in warning.

 

“ _Submit_.” Phillip hisses sharply, giving the steel instrument one final tug, before slowly uncurling his fingers from it, and taking a step back.

 

Barnum’s chest is rapidly rising and falling, hands clenching, conflicted eyes boring into the younger man’s. Then finally, just as Phillip is about to lose patience, the older man exhales, lowers his head, and slowly, oh so slowly, sinks to his knees, the movement fluid and graceful, as his long red coat brushes the floor.

 

Phillip barely contains a moan at the sight of the powerful man kneeling before him, sitting on his heels, thighs parted, arms tensed by his side. It sends wild, carnal desire through Phillip, his pants tightening almost uncomfortably.

 

“Look at me.” He orders.

 

Barnum lifts his head to meet his eyes, and this time Phillip does let out a pleased growl at seeing the other man’s flushed cheeks and shame-filled eyes.

 

“Don’t you look just _beautiful_ like this, Mr. Barnum.” Phillip leers, stepping around him.

 

Barnum only grits his teeth in answer, as Phillip leans down to whisper in the man’s ear:

 

“Tell me, _Circus King_ , how does it feel, to be reduced to such _humiliating compliance_?”

 

The smallest whimper escapes the older man’s lips, only adding to Phillip’s assertiveness. However, the continuous lack of answer incites Phillip to suddenly seize Barnum’s hair and pull at it almost violently, tilting the man’s head back. Barnum lets out a choked cry.

 

“I am getting tired of your repetitive impertinence, Barnum.” Phillip says, tightening his grip, as tears begin to form at the Circus owner’s wide eyes.

 

“I- I-” Barnum rushes out, voice cracking. “I don’t know-”

 

“Then let me decide _for_ you.” Phillip interrupts, not missing a beat, as he raises his free hand to Barnum’s exposed throat. His nails scrap the hot, sensitive skin from one side to the other, enjoying the shivers wracking through the vulnerable man’s entire body.

 

“I think,” Phillip continues, his tone neutral and analogical, “That you _enjoy_ this.” Barnum whines as Phillip brings himself closer to the kneeling man, the tent in his pants brushing against the back of Barnum’s head. “That you _relish_ in submitting to another man, being brought down to your knees like a common whore, a _weak_ little thing. _Don’t you_.”

 

Barnum pushes his head back slightly, gasping at the warmth radiating from Phillip’s groin, heart beating madly at Phillip’s appellations. His brain can’t seem to form words, as all the blood rushes south. Only a keening sound manages to make its way past his lips.

 

“ _Don’t you._ ” Phillip hisses, fingers twisting in the man’s abused hair, nails digging in the soft skin of the Showman’s throat.

 

“Hghh-! Yes! _Yes_ -!”

 

“Do you know what I would do to you, Mr. Barnum?” Phillip asks rhetorically. “If I were a man with less restraint, I would split you in half, make you come undone only to beg for more.”

 

Barnum groans, brain clouded by arousal and frustration.

 

“Aren’t you lucky, Mr. Barnum.” He pauses. “Or perhaps, _un_ lucky.” He chuckles.

 

Phillip releases the man’s hair, earning a sharp exhale, and goes to walk away. Barnum tries to make a desperate grab at Phillip, his traitorous mind and body wanting him to stay. Phillip swats his hands away, and tsks.

 

“Now what makes you think you can _touch_ me, Mr. Barnum?” Phillip smirks at the resulting whine. “You can whine all you want, but you’re _mine_ , and not the other way around.”

 

Phillip makes his way to the coat hanger, reaches inside one of the pockets, and pulls out a riding crop. Barnum gasps at the sight of it, as Phillip walks back to stand in front of him.

 

“You know,” Phillip begins, setting the end of the leather crop against Barnum’s cheek, “There is a certain irony of you wearing your Ringmaster coat while on your knees for me.” He slides it down the man’s cheek, to his chin, then up the other cheek, Barnum moaning at the caress. “This simple piece of flamboyant red clothing makes you think you’re invincible, powerful, _in control_. But underneath it,” He whips the crop to Barnum’s throat, “You’re just begging to be brought down.”

 

Barnum swallows heavily, hands going to his own crotch in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure as his cock jumps against the confine of his pants again.

Phillip slaps them with his instrument.

 

“Let me be clear.” He says coldly. “You will _not_ touch yourself. You will come when I tell you to come and _only then_. Is that understood?

 

“Y-Yes...Sir.”


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hullo!
> 
> This is going to be a few chapters long, so I hope y'all enjoy the ride!
> 
> Thank you to Nerdy_snowflake and my Mello for helping me along. And Puff for the cover! Love y'all!
> 
> Comments and kudoseseseses fuel my brain ;)

 

_Previously:_

 

 

“Let me be clear.” He says coldly. “You will  _not_ touch yourself. You will come when I tell you to come and  _only then_. Is that understood?

 

“Y-Yes...Sir.”

 

 

Chapter 6

 

 

“Now. Give me your hands.” Barnum raises them in front of him, elbows bent, palms facing up, expecting Phillip to take them.

 

He doesn’t. Instead, Phillip settles the riding crop to the man’s groin, lightly, barely touching. Barnum almost lowers his hands, but manages to keep them up, body jerking slightly with a gasp.

Smirking, Phillip applies pressure, making small, slow, circular motions. Barnum moans, long and wanton. He looks close to coming already.

 

Phillip, however, is a different story.

 

Phillip doesn’t need physical release to be sexually gratified. To him, the image of Barnum, the great Ringmaster, at his mercy like this is enough to satisfy him. For all he cares, he could stop everything now. However, he won’t. For some unfathomable reason, he still wants the man in front of him to achieve his end. It’s a strange concept to Phillip. He’s had similar fun with other men, of course, but Phineas Taylor Barnum was surely something else; so pliant, yet so unruly at the same time. Truly a unique little thing. That spark he had felt that afternoon, when he’d first seen him, had been surprising. It had almost seemed like a deeper- _No. It was nothing!_

 

“Come.” Phillip growls aggressively. “ _Now_.” He snaps the crop, hard, and Barnum shudders with a shout, a wet spot appearing on his pants as he slumps, breathing heavily.

 

While Barnum gathers his breath and the blood rushes back to his brain, Phillip takes this time to chase his disturbing thoughts away, careful not to let anything show on his face. He’s glad to notice Barnum’s hands are still raised in front of him. He discards the riding crop, and takes the left appendage in his hand, drawing its owner’s attention. Barnum looks up at him, cheeks flushed and mouth opened to facilitate his breathing. Phillip pulls it to him, forcing the other man to stand high and straight, body still lax from his orgasm. Phillip leans in to the man’s throat, inhales deeply, and kisses it. Once. Barnum gasps softly. Twice. He trembles. A third time, longer. He whimpers, a tent forming at his pants again.

 

“Are you ready for another, Ringmaster?” Phillip whispers against Barnum’s hot skin, feeling the accelerated pulse throb against his lips.

 

Barnum only whines in response, his body betraying his state of exhaustion. Phillip smirks, and brings his foot over the fabric over the man’s quickly hardening member. Barnum’s breath hitches.

 

“Is this too much for the great Circus King to handle?” Phillip taunts, as he begins to massage between Barnum’s trembling legs.

 

Barnum whimpers, hips jerking forward to meet with the sole of Phillip’s boot, which Phillip presses indulgently, making the man under him moan, eyes closing, only to snap back open as Phillip leans away, standing back straight, still holding the quivering man’s wrist.

 

“Remember, darling; only on my word.” Phillip reminds him with mock sweetness, and raises Barnum’s hand to his lips, turning it as to expose the inside of his wrist, placing a kiss upon it, the older man’s fingers twitching.

 

Barnum makes a choked sound, which in turn makes Phillip smirk on his skin. He raises his eyes to meet the Ringmaster’s wide ones, as he plants another kiss, his teeth grazing the skin teasingly. Barnum lets out another moan, quieter this time, as if not to break the spell. Phillip is still massaging the other man over his pants. He feels him shivering, tensing, his eyes closing in approaching ecstasy. Phillip knows Barnum needs to come, can hardly hold back his release, as he presses his foot down.

 

“ _Now_ , Mr. Barnum.” Phillip whispers, lips still on the man’s wrist, and bites down, _hard_.

 

Barnum cries out brokenly, his back arching as he comes again, his entire body contracting and shaking. His hips move violently, black spots clouding his vision, until finally, what was left of his strength seems to leave him, as he curls onto himself with a whimper, Phillip’s grip the only anchor keeping him from collapsing entirely.

Phillip removes his boot from its dais, and proceeds to circle around the panting man, bringing his arm above his head. Phillip feels a shot of thrill at the puppeteer-like control he has over Barnum in this moment. He backs away, pulling the exhausted man with him, who goes down to the ground with no resistance whatsoever, his legs unfurling from under him to stretch out to the wooden floor. His eyes are closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each shallow breaths he greedily takes. Phillip bends down, sets his arm down gently to his side, and stands up straight, thinking. Reflecting. Considering.

Maybe he should just put an end to their ‘session’ here and now. He’s tormented the poor man enough tonight after all...and yet.

Yet he’s not entirely satisfied.

So he circles around Barnum, stopping at his hips, steps over him, and lowers himself on top of the panting man. He decides to make no comment on the twice wet spot.

Phillip places his hands over the other man’s hipbones, and thrusts his pelvis down, eliciting a gasping whine from Barnum.

 

“Have I overstimulated you, _Ringmaster_?” Phillip asks innocently, smirking.

 

“Hhgh-” Is the only thing that comes out of Barnum’s mouth, making Phillip chuckle airily.

 

“Oh, but I’m not quite done with you yet, Mr. Barnum.” Phillip purrs, rocking his hips once more, the exhausted man whimpering.

 

“N-No more- I can’t-” Barnum chokes out, eyes still closed.

 

“Of course you can, _darling_ .” Phillip clicks his tongue. “After all, I’ve yet to properly _touch_ you.” His right hand begins to slide down to Barnum’s waistband, teasing the fabric.

 

“ _Phillip-_ ”

 

Phillip halts his movement, before suddenly reaching for the collar with his free hand, quick as a lightning, closing it around the cold instrument, cutting off his plea.

 

“You will not use my name as if you _know_ me, Barnum.” Phillip hisses dangerously, as the man under him begins to jerk in his grasp. “Need I remind you that you are _my property_ and _not_ the other way around?” He drums his fingers against the soft, throbbing pulse right above the metal adornment, before slowly releasing his hold.

 

“Now, Mr. Barnum, you must be uncomfortable in these tight clothes.” Phillip continues in a sweet voice, the sudden change in his tone unsettling, as he brings both his hands to meet at the center of Barnum’s chest.

Phil keeps his hands in place for a while, listening to the other man whine hesitantly from his seemingly gentle touch with a thrumming satisfaction. He threads his fingers into the Ringmaster’s golden vest, his thumbs hooking under the fabric, cressing the surprisingly delicate piece of exuberant clothing. He hums, noticing how Barnum’s eyes are still screwed shut.

 

“Open your eyes.” He orders icily. He doesn’t need to repeat himself as he sees hazel eyes fluttering open, staring intently at the ceiling.

 

"Why don't we see what you're hiding under this facade, _Circus King_?" As soon as the last syllable leaves his lips, he rips open the vest, the buttons flying to the sides, revealing his sweating, toned chest. Barnum gasps, jerking under Phillip, eyes slamming shut once again.

Phillip takes a moment to revel in the sight of the once proud Showman, before laying his hands flat on his now naked chest, fingers brushing above the trembling man’s nipples. Phillip grins at Barnum’s surprised gasp, followed by a loud keen as Phillip squeezes them between his thumb and index fingers, making the Ringmaster squirm, his chest rising and falling erratically.  
Another whine sounds out as the man’s own worked up body betrays him yet again, his cock rapidly rising under Phillip’s administrations.

Phillip can feel Barnum’s hardening member, rocking his hips, making the Ringmaster shudder from the overstimulation, pleading whimpers leaving his dry mouth.

  
"Too much for you, Mr. Barnum?" He thrusts again, a little harder than before.

  
"P-Please- I-I can't...can't...." Barnum shakes his head, rolling it from side to side, weak whines interrupting his sentences, "I'm...g-going to- to break..."

 

Phillip eases a hand down the other man’s stomach, teasing a finger under his waistband.

 

"You think you're broken now?" He rests a single finger on Barnum’s throbbing cock, the man bucking his hips under him. "You'll soon find out," He puts his whole hand down his pants. "How _badly_ I can break you." He closes his hand around the man’s cock, earning another tortured whine from Barnum.

 

Phillip considers just indulging the man below him, simply jerking him as hard as he can until he comes apart beneath him. However, that would be exactly what Barnum wants; an easy way out. Phillip isn't about to give him what he so desperately needs.  
He slowly begins to stroke his cock up and down, feeling it soaked from the other two times he's made Barnum break, the head already leaking from his touch.  
Barnum’s whole body shakes with yet another wave of pleasure taking over him, a familiar warmth coiling in his groin, hips rolling in an effort to get more friction.  
Phillip gives him false hope of release, stroking him harsh and fast, only to drag it away from him, his hand slowing down back to a torturous pace. He repeats the cycle, again and again, until Barnum is a disheveled mess, body spasming with unfulfilled ecstasy building up only to be pushed back down everytime. Barnum is moaning, loud and broken, begging - for what exactly, Phillip does not care. This isn’t for the Ringmaster’s enjoyment after all, this is only for Phillip to make a point.  
However, Phillip doesn’t know what comes over him suddenly, as Barnum opens his eyes, his tears filled hazel orbs meeting Phillip’s dilated ocean ones. Phillip halts his movements, and this time, Barnum doesn’t protest. Their intense gaze bore into each other. Phillip feels heat pool into his... _his heart?_

He finds himself leaning closer...and closer...until he is only inches away from the Ringmaster’s trembling lips, never breaking eye contact.

“ _Phillip…”_

 

Barnum whispers his name with such reverence, such need, that it pushes Phillip to close the remaining distance between them, as he locks their lips together in a sweet kiss.

Phillip feels the same spark he felt during their first meeting, the thought alarming him.

 

_He should break this off._

 

Instead, he only deepens the kiss, as he tightens his hold of Barnum’s cock, gripping it hard. With a broken moan, which Phillip devores, Barnum comes into his hand, his hips jerking erratically as he finally reaches the sweet, painful bliss of his third orgasm.


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hullo!
> 
> This is going to be a few chapters long, so I hope y'all enjoy the ride!
> 
> Thank you to Nerdy_snowflake and my Mello for helping me along. And Puff for the cover! Love y'all!
> 
> Comments and kudoseseseses fuel my brain ;)

_Previously:_

 

Barnum whispers his name with such reverence, such need, that it pushes Phillip to close the remaining distance between them, as he locks their lips together in a sweet kiss.

Phillip feels the same spark he felt during their first meeting, the thought alarming him.

 

_He should break this off._

 

Instead, he only deepens the kiss, as he tightens his hold of Barnum’s cock, gripping it hard. With a broken moan, which Phillip devores, Barnum comes into his hand, his hips jerking erratically as he finally reaches the sweet, painful bliss of his third orgasm.

 

 

Chapter 7

 

 

 

Phillip stares out the window of the moving train. He’s alone in a cabin, having wanted silence and peace. His mind wanders, once again, back to Barnum.

After he had come for the third time, Barnum had eventually succumbed to exhaustion, Phillip’s name on his lips. Phillip had gotten off him, stood up, and walked to the adjoining bathroom to wash his hands, and compose himself. He had then taken a seat on the desk chair, staring at Barnum’s sleeping form on the floor for a few minutes, thinking. He really was a beautiful man, wasn’t he. Beautiful and powerful, yet he had given up all that power and confidence so perfectly for Phillip.

Phillip had eventually decided it was time for him to keep up his part of the bargain, as he had walked towards the coat hanger, fishing out a small, metal key from his coat. He had thought - and still thinks - how easily Barnum could have found it if he had really wanted to. Phillip had considered just waiting for the man to wake up, and unlock the collar then. However, that spark he’d been feeling all day had been - and still is - worrying him.

Barnum was _not_ that special.

Instead, Phillip had written a couple of words on a piece of paper, placed the key atop of it, and had left it at that. When he had exited the office, it had been to find the ring below him empty. He had checked his pocket watch to see it was past midnight already. He had told his troop earlier today to leave without him after their ‘demonstration’, as he’d be _busy_ for awhile. They had understood exactly what he had meant.

 

-

 

The sun is setting. Phillip and his troop of friends have been in the train for almost a day now.

Phillip wonders how Barnum reacted upon waking up. Was he sad, disappointed at Phillip’s absence? Relieved? Phillip mentally scolds himself. He’s never going to see that - _fascinating, thrilling, exquisite_ \- man again anyway. Why ponder upon it? Phillip doesn’t get attached to his conquests. His playthings. They sometimes try to ask more of him, and each time, Phillip refuses. It is only ever about the pleasure, after all. But again, this Barnum. _Phineas Taylor Barnum_ . This man had been so bright. So colorful. So full of life. Phillip barely knows him, he shouldn’t want to know him. But try as he might, he can’t deny the existence of that instantaneous spark of _something_ every time he had been in Barnum’s intoxicating presence. It frustrates Phillip, not knowing what this means. He tells himself it is still probably nothing, that it will pass as soon as he himself passes on to a new object of interest. He had done what he had come to New York for; a nice show, and an even nicer night. Time to settle back into his everyday life.

Phillip is still eerie quiet the next day, as they reach New Orleans. It worries his friends, as Phillip is usually vigorous and boastful after a successful adventure, no matter how often they are. In fact, they had expected it to be even more of a celebration considering they had done Number Six, all for one man’s attention. But instead, they all retire wordlessly, a silent understanding that Phillip wishes to remain alone tonight. All except William. As soon as he has dropped his bag in his room above the bar, he descends the stairs leading into the saloon, where he sees Phillip nursing a drink at the counter. He takes the stool next to his.

He leans forward to take a glass from behind the counter, setting it in front of him, and snatches the bottle away from Phillip, pouring himself half a glass. He takes a sip, waiting to see if Phillip will talk first. When he doesn’t, William sighs.

 

“Alright, Phil, what’s going on?” William asks gently.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Phil answers, taking another sip from his amber drink. It reminds him of Barnum’s eyes.

 

“Don’t play that with me.” William says gruffly. “I know you. As soon as you came back from your _special_ time with that Ringmaster, you’ve been quiet. Distracted. Head in the clouds. Not your usual broad self.” William emphasizes his description by tapping on the wooden counter. “Which is even more unsettling considering what you were doing right before. So come on. Spill it.”

 

Phillip sighs, taking another swallow.

 

“I don’t know, William.” He begins eventually. “I’m feeling... _strange_.”

 

“‘Strange’ how?”

 

Phillip frowns to himself.

 

“Like I messed up something.”

 

“With Barnum?”

 

“Yes. No. Maybe. Like I said, I don’t know.” Phillip groans in self-exasperation.

 

“Did something go wrong during your time together?” William asks, even if he knows that’s not very likely.

 

“No. No. Everything was perfect.” Phillip answers, his tone softening as he recalls Barnum’s sounds and expressions. “Except…” He trails off.

 

“Except what?” He asks softly, trying not to brisk Phillip too much.

 

“There was this thing that I kept feeling all day.” Phillip starts, nails scratching at the wood nervously. “It’s been there since I met him the first time. I can’t explain it, but it just felt…” He trails off again.

 

“Strange?” William echoes.

 

“Yeah.”

 

They remain silent for a minute.

 

“Did he say something to you after?” William asks, thinking maybe Barnum said something that got to Phillip.

 

“No.”

 

“Nothing at all?” William says, surprised. “How come?”

 

“Well, he was passed out.” Phillip smirks, and yet it doesn’t quite reach all the way up. “And I left before he could wake up.”

 

“First of all, congratulations on making such an energetic man _pass out_ .” William states, to which Phillip dips his head. “Second, _ouch_ , that’s cold, even for you.”

 

“Shut up.” Phillip huffs indignantly. “I left a note, and the key to the collar.”

 

“Wait, you left him the collar?” William asks for confirmation.

 

“Yeah.” Another sip.

 

“Why?” William blurts out incredulously.

 

“I don’t know. I thought it could...serve as a reminder of...of me, or something.”

 

Phillip downs the rest of his drink, William pouring him another.

 

“I have to say, Phil,” William says slowly, carefully, “That is very... _unlike you_.”

 

“I know, I know.” Phillip groans.

 

“And what did the note say?” William asks, curious.

 

Phillip snorts, taking another sip.

 

“‘Good boy’.”

 

After a couple seconds, William barks a loud laugh.

 

“Phillip, the playwright, the silvertongue, able to seduce anyone and anything with just his words, writes down naught but a measly dog praise.”

 

William begins laughing fully, joined in by Phillip, before slowly sobering up as he sees Phillip looking down at his drink again, smile disappearing. He patiently waits for his friend to continue.

 

“I’m telling you, Will,” Phillip sighs, “Something’s wrong with me.”

 

William swats him on the head.

 

“Nonsense. Nothing’s ‘wrong with you’.” He says affectionately. “You just might be…” He pauses.

 

“Might be what?” Phillip snap, slightly desperate for an answer.

 

“A tad infatuated with the man.” William finishes, raising a brow.

 

Silence.

 

“Yeah, as if.” Phillip snorts, taking a long sip.

 

“Would it be _that_ crazy, tho?” William cocks his head.  “Look, you’ve never met a man like him before, right? He’s charismatic, good looking, and holds - or held - his stance against you. And there is such a thing as instant attraction. And not just physically.”

 

“That’s ridiculous.” Phillip scoffs. “I don’t feel anything for him. He was just a plaything, a passing fancy, of which I have satiated myself with. Nothing more.”

 

Another silence.

 

“And what does your heart say?” William asks gently.

 

Phillip hesitates a bit, looking between his drink and his friend. He clenches his jaw, before growling out:

 

“ _To get the fuck over it._ ”

 

Lie.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi dear readers!
> 
> Sorry for the slow af update, I've been all over the place, changing countries and the general mess of life.  
> I'll try to write the next chapter faster, buuuut I can make no promises :)
> 
> Hope you liked this one, and be prepared for Phil to show some kind of personality switch. (I kinda canon that because of his upbringing, Phil may not be entirely stable. Not in a dangerous way, just emotionally. I hope it has shown so far in this fic.)


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